The History of Legolas: Thranduil and Almwen
by Vendie of Rivendell
Summary: Part I of The History of Legolas series. The story of Thranduil; how he found new life in Greenwood the Great, began a family, and tried to protect them against the shadow falling over Middle Earth.
1. Chapter 1

**The History Of Legolas – Part I  
The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen**  
By Vendie

**Author's Note:** The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it. :)

Dear readers:

First, I want to thank everyone who has previously read, reviewed, and added this story to their favorites for their encouragement and support. You are an excellent audience and I've been so blessed by your kind words. For those reading this for the first time, thank you for your interest!

The History of Legolas series started out as a crazy idea I got as a freshman in college (in 2004!) and evolved into something beyond my wildest imaginings. As someone with attention span difficulties, the nearly 100,000 words spanning 43 chapters was a fantastic undertaking. Many of you know I ran out of steam towards the end. After a lot of procrastination, I posted the last chapter of _I Aear Can Ven Na Mar_ in July of 2010, six years after the start of this adventure and out of the creative energy to finish it to my satisfaction.

My writing style has evolved since I started. Additionally, my thoughts of Legolas' background have also changed after a few yearly re-reads of The Lord of the Rings. Gradually, I've come up with the drive and ideas I lacked two years ago to finish the story fully, and it is my deepest pleasure to present you with this "special edition" of The History of Legolas!

For those of you who have read this story before, you'll notice that I've combined the first two installments (previously called _Thranduil and Almwen_ and _From Light To Shadow_) into the story you are about to read, and most of the changes to which have been polish to old writing. There have been significant, substantive changes to the plot arcs of _The Last Green Leaf_ (now the second installment) and _I Aear Can Ven Na Mar_ (now the third installment). I will repost all of the stories chapter by chapter, as if they were new, and I encourage you all to read them again to see what's changed. The ending is the same, but how Legolas gets there - which is the main point of this story - is different. I hope you'll like the additions!

Again, thank you for your support and interest in my stories. All of your feedback is extremely helpful and encouraging. I couldn't have asked for better readers. Please enjoy, and leave a review to let me know what you think!

Blessings,

Vendie

* * *

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen  
_Chapter One – Ignorance

It was a beautiful night in the valley of Emyn Duir. The sky was cloudless, and the pale light from the full moon shone down through the dense forest, illuminating the soft, grassy paths.

Thranduil, the newly crowned prince of Greenwood the Great, walked through the trees just outside where there was a great celebration being held for the establishment of the new realm. Sounds of music and singing drifted through the trees, making them come alive.

Unlike his father, Thranduil was apprehensive with the union of the Silvan elves and his Sindarin kin. He found the Silvan elves to be rustic and strange in thought. Their language, art, traditions, and lives were different. Oropher had chided his son, saying that _he_ was the one strange in thought to not accept their new Silvan friends.

Thranduil sighed as he walked through the forest and looked about the trees that surrounded him. Oh, how he longed for the deciduous trees of his old home! He missed the beautiful leaves that changed their colors with the seasons. These new fir trees did not shed their leaves. They were unchanging. And however beautiful their green color was, and how nicely they smelled, Thranduil did not like them because they were different.

"My Lord, has this tree offended you?" A voice asked.

Thranduil looked up into the branches of the fir tree he had been staring at and noticed for the first time that he was not alone. There, on the lowest branch of the fir tree, was an elven maiden. It was dark where she sat, and Thranduil was only able to discern that she was a maid from her voice and from the outline of her figure. Her voice had a dark timbre and she spoke in the Sindarin tongue, leading Thranduil to believe she was of the Sindar.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, peering up at her.

"You glare at this pine as though it had done something to earn your contempt. Do you find something wrong with it?"

Embarrassed that his expression had betrayed him, Thranduil backed away and shook his head. "No, there is nothing wrong with it. I was deep in thought."

The elven maid made a humming noise as if she was considering his response, but said nothing in return. The blonde-haired prince raised a brow at her, wondering to himself why she should be out in the forest alone, and why she was sitting in a fir tree in the first place.

"If you do not mind me asking; why are you in that tree?" He asked.

"I like sitting in trees." The maid answered simply.

"Should you not be at the celebration?"

"Should you?"

Thranduil shook his head. "I take it that you were not enjoying it?"

"Not in the least, sir." She replied.

"I am glad to know that I am not alone in this," Thranduil said. "My father thought I was strange for my ill humor."

"As does mine. He welcomes this change more than I." She sighed. "I am saddened by the passing of the ways of old."

Thranduil smiled, glad that he had found someone with the same ideas he had, and that they could connect. A few moments of silence crept into their conversation. The prince looked up into the tree, and could see that the maiden was staring down at him.

"Might I know your name?" Thranduil asked, breaking the silence.

"You might, but I doubt you do!" The elf-maiden teased. Thranduil laughed.

"Will you tell me your name?" he rephrased.

"Perhaps, if you tell me yours first." She replied.

Somewhat incredulously, he replied; "I am Thranduil, son of Oropher who established this realm. Certainly if you are Sindar, you would know of me."

"Why do you conclude that I am of Sindar origin?" The maid asked.

"You speak the Noble Tongue fluently, my lady. Those who are Silvan, in their ignorance, have scarcely learned it."

"Ignorance." The elleth said. There was no question in her voice.

"Yes." Thranduil replied.

"I thought it was not the Sindar's aim to change the Silvan elves' ways of life." She pointed out.

"No, but one would assume that they would at least try to learn the language." Thranduil snorted.

It was then that the elven-maid jumped from her perch in the tree and revealed herself to him. And much to Thranduil's horror, he realized that she was clothed as one of the Silvan elves, and had a distinctly Silvan face, which looked particularly disgusted at that moment in time. Her dark eyes bore into his blue ones, making the prince feel quite uneasy.

"My lady, I apologize, I - "

"You may call me Lady Almwen, thank you very much. And I do think that I have disproved your theory of my people being ignorant, have I not?" She spat in venomous tones.

"You have, Lady Almwen," Thranduil replied as a child being scolded.

"It would seem that the only ignorant party here is the one which chooses not to accept others for their differences and scorn them for it," Almwen said. And with that, she turned on her heel and walked towards the celebration, leaving a very dumbfounded and embarrassed Thranduil in her dust.

Just as Almwen disappeared into the grove of trees, Thranduil sprang forward and called out: "My lady! I am sorry, I did not mean to be so brusque!"

But it was no use. The sounds of the celebration drowned out the disgruntled prince's apology as Almwen approached where the rest of her kin and their new Sindar friends were feasting and celebrating.

Thranduil followed her back to the feast, but lost her when he encountered the crowd of merry elves that were dancing about outside the newly made capital of Greenwood the Great, Emyn Duir. Before he could seek the elf-maiden any further, Thranduil heard the distinct call of his father.

"My son! You have decided to join us!"

Thranduil turned to his left and saw his father there, arms open and a grin on his face. Oropher was a tall elf, taller than most. He appeared as young as his son did, though he was many years older. His fair hair, long, hair was golden and his eyes were blue. Thranduil and his father were nearly spitting images of each other.

"Good evening, Father." Thranduil said, somewhat downcast.

"What troubles you now?" Oropher asked, seeing the way his son's brow was furrowed in consternation.

"I fear I have offended someone, and I am searching for her, though, I cannot seem to find her. She disappeared among the trees," Thranduil replied.

"Ah. You let your tongue get away with you. As always," Oropher chuckled. Thranduil cast his father a disproving look and sighed and crossed his arms, still glancing through the crowd to see if he could find Almwen.

"Well, who is this girl who you have so vexed?" his father asked.

"Lady Almwen, she said her name was."

With that, a slow grin came across Oropher's face, and he was unsuccessful at stifling a laugh. Thranduil rolled his eyes at this.

"What have I done now that amuses you so?" Thranduil sighed. Often, this was the story between father and son; that Oropher was over-mirthful and Thranduil was grave.

"You do not remember when I introduced you to Veryandil, my new advisor? He mentioned that he had a daughter, did he not?"

Thranduil felt his stomach drop out of his chest. Veryandil was a Silvan Lord who had helped Oropher and the Sindar establish Greenwood. Almwen, apparently, was his daughter, and was now a lady of the court.

"You had best make amends, my son, for you will be seeing much of the Lady Almwen in my halls from now on!" Oropher chuckled as he slapped his son on the back and walked off to join some of his councilors that were standing a few steps away.

Across the gathering, Almwen had joined her father and her mother and watched as Thranduil conversed with his father and looked over the crowd for her. Her mother caught her staring.

"Has the Sindar prince caught your eye?" her mother teased.

"No, Mother," Almwen said, still observing the prince from afar, "in fact he has quite earned my contempt."

"I'm sure he is not that bad." Her mother put a hand on her shoulder. Almwen continued to watch Thranduil, concerned that he should spot her. She had no desire to speak with the prince ever again.

"Indeed, he is worse."

Almwen's mother smiled. "I am sure that you two can learn to be great friends. You will be seeing much more of him from now on, my dear. Perhaps you will become even more than that!" she continued to tease.

Almwen finally turned and raised and raised an eyebrow. She appeared as though she were at the height of skepticism as she replied; "I seriously doubt that, Mother."


	2. Chapter 2

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen  
_Chapter Two – Second Chances

* * *

It had been many years since the establishment of Greenwood the Great. The elves of Emyn Duir had been living together happily under the new rule of Oropher, and the cultures of the Silvan and Sindarin elves seemed to be coexisting – even melding – peacefully, save for two elves who had never gotten along from the start...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Almwen was sitting under a tree next to stream reading quietly, enjoying the beautiful day. She had come alone, wishing to find some peace and friendship among the trees.

She brushed her long, ebony hair from her dark eyes and peered out from behind the pages of her book to look at the laughing stream that ran between its banks. Almwen sighed contentedly as she listened to the water and the songs of the birds in the branches of the tree above her. The Silvan maid closed her eyes and let the sounds flood her ears.

"What a glorious day!" She sighed happily.

The water in the stream called to her, and deciding that a nice refreshing swim sounded like a good idea, she looked around to see if there was anyone to spy on her. Once Almwen had decided that she was alone, she put her book down and began to undress.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Meanwhile, not far away, Thranduil was strolling among the fir trees and enjoying the day. He had grown accustomed to the firs of Greenwood, and had actually come to like them, as he had come to take pleasure in most things in Greenwood these days; even the Silvan elves.

Nearby, he could hear the sounds of a stream burbling in its bed. He knew the stream well – when he had just arrived in Greenwood, he spent many a day there exploring its banks like a curious elfling. Something about the water seemed to call to Thranduil, as if some bit of sea-longing still resided within him from ages and sires past. Though he would not yield to it as the Noldor, Thranduil still found the songs of water to be fascinating.

Feeling a sudden urge to visit the stream again, Thranduil changed his path to the east and navigated himself to where he knew the stream widened and deepened and became a good swimming place.

As he neared it, he heard a splashing noise that was made by a creature entirely too large to be a jumping fish. Curious, he proceeded cautiously through the thick woods until he came to the place whence the noise came. He peered out of the trees to see an elven maiden with her back to him, waist-deep in the water.

Thranduil swallowed thickly and was frozen; torn between his desire to flee and desire not to be caught by leaving abruptly. Suddenly, the elleth turned her face slightly so he could see her profile. Instantly, he recognized Almwen. Thranduil averted his eyes with difficulty as he stepped back. His foot fell onto a twig, causing it to snap.

Almwen was immediately aware of his presence and covered herself as she turned.

"AI!" She shrieked as she submerged herself until only her shoulders and head protruded from the water.

"I am sorry, my lady!" Thranduil exclaimed as he turned completely away from her, "I did not mean – OW!" He cried as something extremely hard collided with his head. The prince looked to his feet to see a wet stone next to his shoe.

"That should teach you not to spy on maids in the woods! If you were not the crowned prince of Greenwood, I would certainly throttle you!" Almwen shouted at him.

"I was _not_ spying!" Thranduil said, barely turning his face towards her. "I was coming this way to swim myself; I heard a splash and wondered what it was!"

Another rock shot through the air and pelted him in the back.

"What was the meaning of that?!" He hollered, rubbing the spot where the rock had hit.

"For good measure!" Almwen said as she got out of the water to collect her clothes. She went behind the tree where she had folded her blue dress and began to ponder how she was going to dry off in a hurry when suddenly, Thranduil's outer tunic fell at her feet.

"And what is this?" She asked, staring at Thranduil, who stood there in naught but his shift and breeches. Almwen glanced at him long enough to notice the faint color of his skin through the shift and the broadness of his shoulders.

"To dry yourself. You cannot walk back to Emyn Duir with wet clothes, can you?" He replied, his back still to her.

Almwen sighed. "Do not think that this means I owe you a favor," she said.

"I did not say it would," Thranduil replied quietly.

The elleth dried herself off with Thranduil's outer tunic, then slipped back into her sky-blue dress and pulled her hair back into a braid. When she turned around, she realized that the prince was still standing there.

"Why are you still here?" She asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her tone.

"You have my tunic," Thranduil answered simply. Almwen picked it up off the ground and threw it to the prince so that it landed over his head.

"Thank you," the prince chuckled as he peeled the wet garment from his head and flapped it out, letting the water drops fly before he put it back on. When he finally turned around, he realized that Almwen was walking away.

"Where are you going?" He called after her as he jogged to catch up.

"I can walk myself back to Emyn Duir, thank you very much," she said, turning her face from him.

"I am aware that you are perfectly capable of arriving there unharmed, but would you like some company anyway?" Thranduil asked.

"No thank you," Almwen said, giving him an icy glare.

Thranduil sighed. "My lady, why is it that when I am in your presence you always seem as though someone has placed a needle on your chair?" he asked.

"My dear prince, certainly you _must_ know," Almwen replied, rolling her eyes.

"Have I not apologized time and time again for what I said that night?" Thranduil asked, frustrated.

"You have. But that does not mean that I have to like you, my lord. The first impression is usually the lasting one," Almwen said, speeding up her pace. Thranduil stepped in her path, bringing them both to a halt.

"Then, my lady, can we start over?" he asked. Almwen looked him up and down.

"My lord, we cannot simply start over," she sighed as she walked around him.

"Why not?" He asked, continuing to walk with her. For some time now, the prince of Greenwood had been attempting to make amends for his brash behavior towards Almwen upon their first meeting. After living amongst the Silvan elves for many years, Thranduil realized that even for a Silvan, Almwen was different. He wished to know her, but he could not seem to break through the wall she had put up between them. The grudge had been going on for so long, Thranduil wondered if it wasn't some sort of game to the elleth.

"Because," Almwen paused, struggling to find an excuse. "You were spying on me! And I do not want to!" She said, walking off with her nose in the air. Thranduil stopped, nearly at his wits end.

"Why must you be so difficult!" He exclaimed.

"Why must you be so dim-witted!" Almwen shouted back.

"I am merely asking for a second chance! Is that too much for you to give?" Thranduil asked, exasperated. Almwen turned around and surveyed him once more. Truly, she had stopped caring about Thranduil's words long ago. He had proved over time that while he may have been apprehensive in the beginning, he was fair and even-handed with all of the elves of the realm in his decisions and actions.

Arriving at the conclusion that she was being obstinate, Almwen replied, "No," with a sigh.

Thranduil, surprised, but content, smiled at her almost sheepishly.

"Then will you give me a second chance? _Please,_" Thranduil requested, walking towards her.

Curious as to what he would say, Almwen tilted her head down and to the side, eyeing him carefully.

"Yes," She said.

Thranduil smiled and straightened his posture and cleared his throat, making it appear as if he was about to deliver a speech. Almwen was nearly ready to holler at him again, thinking he was mocking her, but before she could object, Thranduil bowed and spoke;

"My lady, allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I am Thranduil, son of Oropher, the king of Greenwood the Great, lord of the Silvan and Sindar elves; my friends and my kin."

Almwen blinked. "Indeed, your friends?" she asked skeptically.

"I find our Silvan brethren to be caring and fair folk, who have taught me more than I would have ever expected. One of their daughters, I will say, is the most fair and forgiving elleth I have ever met. I would be truly blessed to count her among my friends," he said, taking her hand and kissing the top of it.

Taken aback, Almwen stared at him, wondering if his words were true, or if he was merely trying to get her to stop glaring and speaking crossly to him. Letting her outer defenses down for a moment, she smiled and said:

"And I care for the Sindar, for I have met one of their descent who I believed to be a stubborn brute, but who turned out to be a caring soul, and a true prince. Although, he is rather a flatterer," she teased.

Thranduil beamed, desperately pleased to finally had the opportunity to make amends. He offered her his arm and held his head high as he asked her;

"May I escort you back to Emyn Duir?"

Almwen nodded her head and smiled, taking his arm. "I would happily be escorted by a friend."


	3. Chapter 3

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen  
_Chapter Three – A Beautiful Night

Thranduil, once again, found himself at another grand party of his father's design, standing off to the side and looking on as the dignitaries of Greenwood the Great made fools of themselves on their wine and dancing. Of course, Thranduil never minded celebrations, but the magnificent festivities that his father devised always seemed frivolous and outrageous to him. The prince of Greenwood was an extremely serious character, whereas his father was rather obviously the opposite.

The gathering was held on one of the large balconies of the palace that was built into one of the mountains of Emyn Duir. Thranduil leaned against the wall near a door that lead into the ballroom where there were more elves debating political matters and whispering rumors of stirrings in the East.

The night was clear and cool, and if it weren't for all of the lights around him, Thranduil could have been able to see the stars quite clearly if he were to look up. The breeze was blowing, and Thranduil breathed deeply the smell of pine that drifted on the wind.

He sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he looked on, wondering what he could be accomplishing if he could be in the library of the palace reading some of the scrolls there, or something of the sort. Just as he was debating with himself about staying at the party or leaving, a voice startled him.

"My, you are a gloomy looking elf."

Thranduil looked to his left to see Almwen standing there in a deep purple gown with a high collar and long, trailing sleeves. Her hair was mostly down but with a braid on either side of her face pulled back behind her head. A teasing smile played over her lips as she tilted her head and looked at him. The prince smiled and bowed his head.

"Good evening, Lady Almwen," he chuckled, dismissing her playful mockery.

"Good evening my lord," she returned, joining him in leaning against the wall. "I assume that the festivities are not to your liking?"

"They would be to my liking if there were a point to them," Thranduil remarked.

"A point?" Almwen asked.

"A cause, a reason to celebrate. I see none here. Save, perhaps, drinking and foolery," Thranduil said, motioning towards his father, who was guffawing quiet loudly.

"It is not a bad thing to celebrate a wonderful life, Thranduil," The ebon-haired maiden pointed out.

Thranduil chuckled and sighed. Once again, Almwen had hit the proverbial nail on the head. Ever since their truce, the pair had had many conversations, in most of which, Almwen had always seemed to upturn Thranduil's thinking. The Silvan maiden had quite captured his curiosity.

"How is it that you are always right?" He asked.

"Elleth are never wrong," Almwen joked.

"That must be it," Thranduil laughed as he turned his face up to look at the stars. He grimaced.

"You are still gloomy," The elleth pointed out.

"I was just thinking that on a night such as this, it would be wonderful to see the stars in all their brilliance, but all of the lights here have made them dim," The prince replied.

"Well then, we will just have to go some place where we can see them more clearly, then will we not?" Almwen said, taking Thranduil's hand and leading him towards the railing of the balcony.

"What are you doing?" the prince asked.

"Going to get a better look at the stars!" Almwen replied, a certain amount of childish innocence in her voice as she sat down on the railing and swung herself round so she faced away from Thranduil. The drop down to solid ground was not far since the palace was built into the side of the mountain – the distance was only about three feet, and it was clear she planned on jumping down to leave the palace. She patted the railing and turned and smiled conspiratorially at Thranduil.

The prince of Greenwood hesitated for a moment and looked back at the merry elves at the party, and then back at Almwen, who was still smiling at him. Shaking any cautionary thoughts out of his head, Thranduil sat down on the railing with Almwen, who took his hand. And the two jumped.

The moment they hit the ground, for reasons unbeknownst to either of them, they decided to run. They ran off into the trees together, laughing as they searched for a clearing to stare at the stars through. Finally, they came across a large clearing in the trees and collapsed on the ground together, laughing and gasping for air.

The two looked up into the clear night sky and watched the blinking stars silently for a moment.

"This is more like it," Thranduil said, squeezing Almwen's hand.

"They are so beautiful," Almwen sighed, a twinkle in her dark eyes. Thranduil turned and looked at her.

Her fair face seemed to glow as it reflected the pale light of the moon that shone upon her, and her long dark hair was as black as the night. For the first time, Thranduil was completely awestruck by her beauty.

Almwen noticed he was staring and she turned to look him straight in the eye.

"What are you staring at?" She asked, a playful amusement in her voice.

"N-nothing," Thranduil stuttered as he looked back up to the stars. Almwen held back her laughter as she noticed his cheeks turn a slightly pink color. She turned her face back to the sky.

"Is this not one of the most beautiful nights you have ever seen?" She sighed.

"Aye," Thranduil replied.

A long silence passed in between them as they watched the stars flicker in the night sky. Thranduil sighed contentedly and shut his eyes, smelling the spicy scent of pine all around him. The scent, in the years since he came to Greenwood, had become most comforting to him. Gradually, as he lay there, he realized it was not the trees that were giving off the scent, but rather Almwen. Before he had a chance to think on it, she spoke.

"Did the stars shine this clearly in Doriath?" Almwen asked.

"Yes. Oftentimes I would go down to the banks of the River Aros and watch the moon travel across the sky and the sun as it rose. It was a wonderful thing to behold."

"You could see the sun rise on the horizon?"

"From the river banks, yes. There were no trees near the banks of the Aros to obscure the view."

"Often I have wondered what it would be like to watch the sun rise into the sky from the plain. I have never left this forest. I have never been able to watch the sun rise on the horizon. I should like to see it."

"Leave Greenwood?" Thranduil asked with teasing skepticism. He knew Alwmen's love of her homeland ran deep in her soul and the suggestion that she may ever leave the forest was ludicrous. She turned her head and arched a warning eyebrow at him and then chuckled, accepting his tease.

"Only for a time, for I love this forest and everything in it, but I would love to see the sun and moon rise on the horizon, and see the stars from a clear plain," Almwen said in a musical, dreamy tone as she returned her gaze to the sky. Thranduil watched her a moment more and then looked back up at the stars himself.

"Perhaps someday we will ride to the River Running, east of here, and we can watch the sun rise," Thranduil said, mostly without thought. His words surprised even himself and for a moment, he was afraid Almwen would think it silly. And with a moment's more reflection, he couldn't understand why he felt so nervous at all.

Almwen smiled and nudged herself closer to Thranduil so that her head was near his shoulder.

"I would like that very much, mellon nîn," she said softly as she closed her eyes.

Thranduil looked to Almwen, and then up to the sky and smiled.

"It _is_ a beautiful night," he said softly, amazed by how natural it felt to lay there with her.


	4. Chapter 4

_**NOTE:** After seeing The Hobbit last night (which is what has delayed the posting of this chapter - sorry!), I feel it necessary at this time to emphasize that this series was conceptualized in 2004, well before the release of the movie, and is entirely book-verse. ... And there will be no moose. You'll know what I mean by that when you see the movie. _

* * *

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen  
_Chapter Four – The Last Alliance

It was the year 3430 of the Second Age and life in Greenwood had been peaceful, for the most part. The forest itself had experienced no difficulties that the civilian populous knew of, but there were whispers about evil stirring in the East that circulated through the fir trees of Emyn Duir, and the announcement that those of the Noldor race and those of the race of Men were coming to meet with King Oropher about something.

During the week leading up to the council, things in Greenwood were especially stressful. The inhabitants of Greenwood did not like the Noldor elves. They sailed West, joined with men in marriage, and took council with the Valar.

For Thranduil, the thought of even sharing the same air as the Noldor elves made him uncomfortable. As he walked the halls of his father's palace during the council of the Noldor, Sindar, and Men, he appeared as if he had a small gray rain cloud following only him around as he stared at his feet.

He walked down a hall that had an ornately carved open wall that extended for the entire right wall and looked out over the trees of Greenwood. On the opposite side was the library. There were benches that faced out to the open wall, and on one of them, Almwen sat, looking out to the trees.

When Thranduil passed through her line of sight and did not see her, she rose from her seat and followed him. When he did not notice that he was being followed, Almwen reached out with her index finger and poked the prince in the middle of the back, making him jump in surprise and turn around suddenly.

"Almwen!" He cried.

"Why is it that when I catch you walking about the palace, you are always in such a foul mood?" She asked as she offered him a smile, hoping to lighten his spirits.

"What makes you think I am in a foul mood?" He asked with a sigh.

"You have the most awful scowl on your face, my lord."

Thranduil chuckled and shook his head. Almwen was an incredibly perceptive elf. She could read emotions and faces perfectly. Her intuition never ceased to amaze the prince of Greenwood the Great.

"I am afraid you are right, my lady. I am greatly troubled with the coming of these Noldor elves and their mortal allies," he admitted.

"I am troubled as well. I have never before dealt with those who have slain their own kin," Almwen said, looking troubled.

"Aye," Thranduil agreed, but he averted his eyes from her. He was not concerned about the kinslaying, or anything else, but with what tidings the Noldor and the men brought with them. His father had told him that Sauron, the fallen Maiar had and forged many rings of power, with which he planned to enslave all of Middle Earth.

Almwen, observing the darkness that fell over the prince's expression, knew he was hiding something.

"What is that look on your face?" She asked, reaching up and pulling his face to meet her dark eyes. Thranduil looked at her for a long while, breathing in her scent and looking into her pale face. Almwen always smelled of fir trees, and he could never get enough of it. He had grown the love the trees here. He had grown to love Almwen.

As much as he had tried to deny it, the prince of Greenwood had come to love this elleth so much that it made his heart sigh every time she was near. And it was his love for her that made it impossible to lie to her.

Looking around, he saw that there were other elves about them, and not wishing to alarm the general public, he took Almwen by the arm and led her away to a staircase where they could exit the palace and enter the forest to be alone.

"My lord?" she questioned him.

"I will explain when we are in the trees."

Almwen was alarmed by the tone in his voice. Thranduil had always been a very serious elf, and often exaggerated the gravity of situations, but never had he seemed so overwrought. She could feel the tightness of his muscles in his hand. His grip was more firm than usual. As Thranduil pulled her down the stairs, Almwen could feel the uneasiness of the air surrounding him.

Quietly, they exited the palace and walked a ways into the trees until Thranduil stopped and let Almwen's hand go. He turned to face her and was unable to hide the concern in his countenance.

"Sauron, the fallen Maiar, is waging a war against all of Middle Earth. King Elendil, the Noldor King Gil-Galad, and Lord Elrond have come to ask for our aid. My father is seriously considering it." Thranduil explained gravely.

Almwen nearly stepped backwards in shock and dismay.

"War?" She asked. "But what need do we have to go to war? Greenwood has been unaffected thus far!"

"Nay." Thranduil shook his head guiltily. "We have been sending more and more elves to protect the eastern borders. Orcs have been trying to enter Greenwood for many months now. Father did not want to alarm anyone; he thought it would be best to keep the subject quiet."

Almwen looked at Thranduil with a disappointed scowl on her face. "Months!" She asked.

"Yes. Since the beginning of the New Year," The prince admitted.

Almwen stared at him and said nothing. Thranduil could see the anger flaming in her eyes, and he knew that she hated being kept in the dark about anything.

In truth, Almwen was as scared as she was furious. Thoughts of what war would bring to Greenwood ran through her head. If they were to go to war, would Thranduil ever return, or would he perish? She deeply cared for Thranduil, and the thought of never seeing him again tore at her heart in ways she believed he would never know.

"Almwen, we did not want to make anyone worry unnecessarily," he tried to explain.

"It doesn't seem unnecessary now, does it?" she spat.

"No," Thranduil sighed. Just as another uneasy silence was creeping into their conversation, a horn blew, signaling the end of the council. Thranduil and Almwen both looked in the direction that the noise came from, and then to each other. The Silvan maiden still had a contemptuous look on her face as she looked at Thranduil. Without a word, she suddenly ran off towards the balcony of the palace on which Oropher would most likely be making a speech in a matter of minutes.

"Almwen!" Thranduil called out as he took off running after her.

He did not catch up to her until he reached the clearing of trees in front of the palace where many elves had already gathered upon hearing the horn. Almwen stood in the back of the crowd, apparently waiting for Thranduil to catch up. He approached her and tried to take her hand.

"Almwen," he said, touching the top of her palm. She pulled away hastily and did not make eye contact with him, but did run away. Giving up, Thranduil sighed and looked towards the balcony where he could see his father, and the lords Gil-Galad, Elrond, and Elendil.

Oropher stepped to the railing of the balcony and raised his arms, silencing the murmuring crowd.

"Elves of Greenwood the Great!" He began, "Long have we kept to our forest, not troubling about the worries of the world around us, but no longer. A shadow has fallen on these lands.

The fallen Maiar, Sauron, has risen to power and threatens the lives of every creature on this Earth. If we are to protect all that we hold dear, we must join in the cause to rid the world of this evil and fight with Noldor and Men alike.

As king of the realm of Greenwood the Great, I hereby declare war on the Dark Lord, Sauron, and all in alliance with him."

A certain feeling of doom settled over the elves gathered there, and they stirred restlessly.

Oropher turned to Elendil, Gil-Galad, and Elrond and said; "We will join with this Last Alliance of all free folk of Middle Earth!" he declared.

Thranduil, stunned, turned to Almwen, who was still staring up at King Oropher with a shocked look on her face and her hand covering her open mouth.

"Almwen?" Thranduil asked. Never before had he seen such a look of sheer horror on his friend's face, and never before had he known her to be one to be frightened. Almwen turned and looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. Thranduil, though taken aback by her tears, reached out to touch her shoulder.

Without warning, Almwen fled into the forest. This time, however, Thranduil was expecting her to run and she did not get far into the trees before he caught her hand and stopped her.

"Almwen, please do not despair," He said quietly as he pulled her closer to him.

Almwen did not speak; she only looked up into his eyes full of worry and began to weep. To comfort her, Thranduil pulled her close to his body and embraced her, letting her cry into his shoulder. She returned his embrace with little hesitation. Thranduil said nothing, but simply held her, trying not to focus too much on how he found he loved the feeling of her arms around his back.

"I do not wish to see the horrors of war, Thranduil," Almwen said at length. "I dread to see the day when only a fraction of our soldiers return and the forest will be filled with the cries of the elleth and elflings, for their husbands and lovers and fathers are dead."

Knowing that there were no words to soothe her fears, Thranduil hugged her tightly and stroked her long, dark hair to comfort her. Almwen pulled away and looked up into his face.

"I dread to think that there may be time when I will never see you again," she admitted, her voice breaking.

Thranduil's heart cried out in anguish and love at her words and he cupped her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers.

"I would rather die a thousand deaths of mortal men than know that one day you would perish because I failed to protect you from this darkness," he breathed. Almwen squeezed her eyes shut and let the tears pour over her cheeks. Thranduil kissed her forehead, daring to let her know that he truly loved her.

"Do not say such things," Almwen wept as she reached up and took his hands in her own, intertwining their fingers together.

Thranduil could not stop himself from saying the words that came next;

"I love you, and I will always protect you," Thranduil whispered.

Almwen, mildly surprised at his admission, looked into Thranduil's brightly shining eyes and saw the affection he had for her pouring out of them. She squeezed his hands as she pulled them up to her lips to bestow them each with a kiss.

"And I love you," Almwen breathed.

Thranduil leaned down, closing the distance between their faces, and claimed Almwen's lips in a soft kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen  
_Chapter Five – The Promise

Thranduil woke from his delicate slumber. He could feel warm sunlight pouring over his face as he lay with his eyes closed. The prince could discern the distinct sent of pine in the air. He could hear the soft breathing of the one who slept next to him: Almwen.

The prince smiled, but did not open his eyes. He turned over and nudged closer to her as he recalled with a mix of joy and sadness what had taken place between them the night before.

Oropher had hosted a somber farewell feast for all of Greenwood that night to officially announce Veryandil, Almwen's father, as steward while the army of Greenwood was at war. After the ceremony and meal, Thranduil and Almwen danced a few dances together and then slipped away.

Thranduil had been against it, at first, when Almwen had asked. It was such a risk, to marry and thereafter leave for war; he had no guarantee of returning. But Almwen drove a hard bargain.

"My love, I will not survive if you do not return, anyway," she had said with tears in her eyes as they lingered in the darkness, under the cover of trees.

Convicted by her words, Thranduil had taken her hand and led her back to the palace and to his chambers. He wasn't sure he would survive if he couldn't marry her, either, he'd realized.

Finally opening his eyes, he looked upon his bride. Her dark hair spilled over her bare, pale shoulders like slivers of night. Almwen's dark eyes were still closed, guiding her through a dream.

Thranduil leaned close to her and kissed her forehead before rising out of bed, though he was loathe to leave her. He went and put on his green and brown fighting tunic in his dressing room and pulled back his golden hair that had fallen out in the night. Carefully, he re-braided the customary warrior plaits behind his ears and then took up the armor that was on a stand in the corner.

He pulled his leather fighting jerkin over his clothes, and then put on his wrist guards. Next, he fastened his two quivers – one for his two fighting knives and the other for arrows – to his back. With each piece gear he put on, the prince of Greenwood felt more and more reality sink into his mind.

He was going to war. And he might not return to see Almwen again.

Painfully aware of what lay before him, Thranduil picked up his bow and walked back into his bedchamber and looked upon the sleeping maiden in his bed. She looked so peaceful, and so innocent.

Not wishing to wake her, Thranduil leaned over her body and kissed her lightly on the lips and then rose and turned to leave.

"Do not leave," A soft voice called from behind him.

Thranduil turned to see Almwen, awake and sitting up in bed, hugging the sheets to her body. He went to her side and took her hand.

"If you keep me in your heart, I will never leave, meleth nín." He said quietly.

"What if you do not return?" Almwen asked. She suddenly looked uncharacteristically as a small child; afraid, and her dark eyes threatening to spill tears.

"I promise that you will see me again." Thranduil said, kissing her.

"I will hold you to that," Almwen said, a tearful smile crossing her face. The prince of Greenwood took joy in her smile and kissed her again. After a moment of silence, he sighed, knowing that he could linger with her no longer.

"I must go, my father will call for me soon and then we will ride to meet the armies of Gil-Galad and Elendil." He said.

Almwen nodded and kissed Thranduil's cheek. "May Elbereth protect you on your way," she whispered.

Thranduil leaned close to her and kissed her passionately and ran his fingers through her dark hair once more. Almwen closed her eyes and the tears gathered in them spilled over her cheeks as she returned the kiss.

Knowing he could no longer delay, Thranduil broke away from her and rose from the bed. He held her hand until he was too far away to hold it any longer and let her fingers slip gracefully out of his. When he was at the door, he turned and looked at Almwen one last time.

"I love you," he said.

With conviction in her eyes, Almwen smiled and nodded. "I love you," she replied.

And with that Thranduil turned on his heel and left the room, fearing his heart would break.

He found his father in the council room, going over last minute plans with his councilors and looking at maps with the captains of the army of Greenwood.

"Thranduil," Oropher said, when he saw his son. "We ride in an hour. Are you ready?" He asked.

"Father, I must speak with you." Thranduil said. Oropher raised an eyebrow.

"Speak, then."

"Alone."

Oropher studied his son carefully and could see the urgency in Thranduil's eyes. Curiousity peaked and concerned, Oropher waved toward the door and spoke;

"Leave us for a moment," Oropher said to his councilors and captains. The elves nodded and silently made their way from the room, leaving father and son alone.

"What troubles you, _ion nín?_"

"Father," Thranduil paused before spilling his words. He was not sure of what to say. "I am in love with Lady Almwen." He said. Oropher only stared, as if Thranduil was telling him something he already knew.

"We have married."

There was a surprised pause before Oropher let out a laugh. "I had wondered where you went off to last night…" He chuckled.

"Father, this is serious." Thranduil said, sounding as if he were scolding, "I do not regret it, but I had not spoken to her father before this, and…" Oropher cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Veryandil and I have talked at length about you two. Eru knows you've spent enough time together in the last few months to raise suspicions. He approves. Do not fret, Thranduil." Oropher said.

Thranduil sighed from relief. He was worried about Veryandil's reaction, but that only cleared up half of his concern.

"Father, though there has been no ceremony, we are still wedded, which makes her princess of Greenwood…"

"And she will be treated as such. As the Steward's daughter, she would reside in these halls anyway, and if any evil should befall this place, she and her family will be under heavy guard. I will see to it before we leave, Thranduil."

"_Hannon le, Ada."_ Thranduil sighed again. Oropher put his arm around his son's shoulder and smiled.

"You are a fine son, Thranduil, and I am proud to call you my own," the King of Greenwood said. The prince smiled at his father, proud to be his son and to fight under the banner of Greenwood.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

An hour later, Thranduil and Oropher sat upon their horses at the head of a massive army of Silvan and Sindar elves. The banners of Greenwood the Great flapped in the breeze and the horses stirred nervously, sensing the tension in the air.

Thranduil looked up to one of the balconies of the palace and saw Almwen standing there, looking down at him with a smile on her face. Oropher began to speak, but Thranduil kept his eyes trained on his wife.

"Now is the hour, elves of Greenwood the Great, when we take up arms and defend our land from the evil that has so long infested Middle Earth. Let us give hope back to the free peoples of Middle Earth!" Oropher declared.

Almwen breathed heavily. She knew that when this war was over, not all that had gathered here would return. Fear clutched her heart as she kept her gaze on Thranduil.

"Let us ride for our mothers, our fathers, our sons and daughters, our lovers," Oropher continued, flicking a glance in his son's direction.

Thranduil shot a look at his father, and Almwen laughed in spite of herself from her perch on the balcony when she saw.

"We will not allow this shadow to fall upon the great land of Greenwood! We will stand and fight!" Oropher declared, unsheathing his sword and holding it high in the air.

"For Greenwood!" He cried out as his horse reared back.

"For Greenwood!" The soldiers called out.

Oropher repeated his battle cry as he pointed his sword forward towards the path that they would follow and urged his horse forward.

As the army moved forward, Thranduil looked back one last time at Almwen and held his eyes to hers until he could see her no longer.

"Until we next meet…" Thranduil said softly, turning his eyes to the road ahead of him.

Up on the balcony, Almwen watched her husband until he disappeared under the fir trees of the great forest and held her hand to her chest.

"Be safe, _meleth nín._" She whispered.

* * *

**NOTES**

Per Tolkien's _Laws and Customs of the Eldar_ (also referred to as LACE, found in Morgoth's Ring), marriage is a physical and emotional bond between a male and female elf. They don't need a ceremony; just – er, lovemaking.


	6. Chapter 6

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen  
_Chapter Six – The Tears of a Prince

It was a cool night in Greenwood. The moon shone down brightly on Emyn Duir as Almwen slipped under the covers in her bedchamber in the palace. She had lived there for ten years, waiting for Thranduil, her husband, to return.

The first year had been harder than most. The separation was almost too much to bear. She feared for Thranduil's life with almost every breath she took, and wondered every night when she would look at the stars if he was looking at the same constellations and longing for her as she longed for him.

Though the ache in her heart never went away, she did learn to live with it. Almwen occupied herself with daily activities in the palace, learning some of her new duties as the princess of Greenwood and adjusting to her new life. Her mother and father moved into the palace with her, living in an apartment just adjacent to Thranduil's and Oropher's.

Almwen sighed as she wondered how many more nights she would spend alone. She rolled onto her side under the smooth sheets on her feather bed and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply, trying to relax herself. For some reason, she was tense this night. The elleth sensed that something was afoot in Greenwood, but she could not place her finger on the cause for her excitement.

She dismissed the idea of the return of Greenwood's army almost immediately, for she was certain that if the war was over, some word would be sent to Emyn Duir to calm the fears of all the elves there.

Sighing, she ran her hand over the empty spot in the bed next to her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Meanwhile, Thranduil sat upon his white steed, silently leading his troops back to Emyn Duir.

The war was won, but the elves were quiet and downcast. Feeling beaten and broken, the wood elves set out for their home nearly two days after the defeat of Sauron. They had traveled since then, only stopping to allow their horses rest. They were disheveled, a sorry sight to behold, and much fewer in number than when they had set out. During the Siege of Barad-Dûr, they had lost nearly two-thirds of their army. Even Oropher himself had fallen.

Thranduil caught the lump rising in his throat as he thought about his father, whose sword was attached to his horse's saddle, being carried back to Emyn Duir to honor the fallen King in some sort of a memorial that was yet to be decided. Thranduil wanted to bear his father's body back to Greenwood, but he knew that if he brought Oropher back, he would be obligated to bring back all of the fallen elves' bodies, and there were far too many to fathom.

The prince looked up and saw the peaks of the mountains and he knew he was nearly home. His mind was suddenly filled with thoughts of Almwen and how he ached to hold her in his arms and run his fingers through her hair. He nudged his horse to go a little faster, hoping to reach home sooner.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Unable to find rest, Almwen rose from her bed and went to the open window. She closed her eyes and listened to the song of the trees. They whispered mournfully upon the night breeze.

"Such a sad song," Almwen said quietly, "what causes your sorrow?"

She lingered in the window for a while, listening, and pondering their doleful, but peaceful tune. After a time, the elleth's mind emptied and she finally was calm. She whispered an ancient Nandorin goodnight to the trees, and returned to bed for rest.

As she slipped under the covers and into a mysterious dream, her ears barely caught the rumor of horses hooves outside her window.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thranduil had barely shed his leather jerkin and weaponry before he went to Almwen's chambers. Quietly, he opened her door and entered her room to see her sleeping soundly in her bed.

If it was possible, the prince thought he was falling in love with her all over again. After ten years of separation, his memory of the light in her eyes had begun to fade and he had strained to remember her voice. But now with her right before his eyes, his memories came flooding back, overwhelming him.

He went to her bedside and kneeled there and took her hand that was gracefully rested upon her pillow next to her head and kissed the back of it. He did not wish to wake her, but the prince could not keep himself away from her any longer.

Almwen's eyes fluttered open at his touch. It took her a moment to blink her blurry vision away and to realize who was at her side, disheveled though he was. Dirt smudged his skin and his hair was awry.

"I am dreaming," she gasped in disbelief, sitting up in bed. Thranduil rose to his feet and sat back down next to her. He traced her hairline with his fingers and let his hand come to rest on her cheek.

"Nay, my love. I have kept my promise. I am here," Thranduil replied, his voice trembling.

A cry of happiness escaped Almwen's mouth and tears came from her eyes as she threw her arms around Thranduil's shoulders, holding tight to his firm and muscular body as he embraced her small frame, burying his face in her dark and silky hair. He breathed deep the scent of pine that always lingered in her presence. The tears that he had been holding back flowed freely from his eyes as he felt his wife's warm embrace once again.

Almwen felt his hot tears on her neck as he whispered her name as though it anchored him there. She pulled back to look upon him, trailing kisses across his neck, ear, and cheek as she took his face in her hands.

"Thranduil, what ails you?" She asked, reaching wiping the tears from his war-worn face with her thumbs. Thranduil took her hand in his and held it tightly and looked away from her for a moment. With effort, he let out a sigh and collected himself to tell the tale.

"My father thought we could operate as a separate army from Lord Gil-Galad and Lord Elendil," He said, returning his gaze to Almwen, "We were so poorly prepared for what we faced, Almwen. Father, for his pride could not see the disaster that we walked into," Thranduil paused to swallow, holding back more tears.

"Thranduil?" Almwen asked, looking deep into his blue eyes.

"Ada…he…" the prince's voice broke again, "…He fell."

With his last words, Thranduil's final hold on his emotions broke and he began to weep openly as he had not allowed himself to do in front of his warriors. Never before had he shed tears in front of Almwen, or any other elf for that matter, and under any other circumstance Thranduil would have probably found himself embarrassed at the prospect.

Almwen's heart cried out in sympathy as she leaned forward and kissed his salty tears away and pulled his body close to hers, allowing him to cry on her shoulder as he once did for her. She stroked his golden hair, ridding it of the tangles that had accumulated there over his journey home. She had never seen him so utterly broken before, and it pained her to know that there was nothing she could do to ease the pain of Oropher's passing.

Though Thranduil had always looked down on the King's frivolous parties and abundant sense of humor, Almwen knew that Thranduil loved his father deeply. His father had been the only constant in his life since the beginning.

After a time, Thranduil's tears began to wane, and Almwen gently coaxed him to lie down. She curled up next to him, kissing his cheek again and running her fingers over his hairline. Thranduil closed his eyes and felt her caress, never so happy to be with Almwen then now.

He opened his red and weary eyes and smiled. "_Melin le_." He whispered.

"_Melin le_," Almwen breathed.

Thranduil nudged his face close to hers and touched her lips with his and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. And in the warmth of each other's body, they found comfort and drifted into a deep and dream-filled sleep.

* * *

**NOTES**

Melin le - "I love you," in Sindarin.


	7. Chapter 7

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen_  
Chapter Seven – The End and the Beginning

A week after the army's return, there was an official ceremony to honor the fallen, including the King. The week after that, there was to be an official ceremony to recognize the matrimony Thranduil and Almwen and to crown them king and queen of Greenwood.

The afternoon of their ceremony, Thranduil stood in his room, staring at his father's sword, which he had kept ever since the last battle. The sword was sheathed and propped up against a chair that sat in the corner of the room, the handle glinting in the light of the sun that came in through the window.

The wedding and coronation was not far off, and Thranduil was wearing his ceremonial white tunic, adorned with intricate silver and gold stitching of leaves and curling vines. Fastened to his shoulders was a long, white cape that bunched on the ground behind his feet. Upon his forehead he wore his circlet that he was given when he was crowned prince of Greenwood, for he had not yet taken up his father's seat on the throne. His golden hair was pulled back, but the warrior plaits that normally appeared at the top of his ears were left as hanging strips of hair over his ears, signifying the end of war.

Sighing, he took his father's sword up in his hands and gripped it tightly in its sheath and walked out the door.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Almwen, who was in a room nearby, was staring at herself in the mirror as her mother was standing behind her, fastening little white flowers in her hair. Almwen's ebony hair spilled gracefully about her shoulders, contrasting with her purely white gown. The gown was heavy, due mostly to the knee-length sleeves and long train. The silver circlet on her head was fashioned after an ivy vine that curled down onto her forehead into a circle, and in the middle of the circle was a pearl.

"You are beautiful, iell nîn," her mother said, looking over her daughter's shoulder.

Almwen blushed. "Hannon le, Naneth,_" _she replied quietly, looking at her feet.

"Hm. I believe you are missing something," her mother said, a conspiratorial smile on her face.

"Whatever could it be, mother?" Almwen played along and looked back into the mirror to see her mother's smiling face as she unfastened a chain from around her neck. She took the chain from her neck and put it over Almwen's head.

Almwen looked at the necklace closely in the mirror as her mother clasped it behind her neck. It was a simple silver chain with a silver leaf charm hanging from it. Almwen found its simplicity beautiful.

"This was my mother's. It was given to her when she married my father. And it was given to me when I married your father. It is tradition to pass it down to the next child as we give her away." Her mother explained, squeezing her daughter's shoulders.

The two elleth smiled to each other into the mirror. Almwen was admiring the chain around her neck when movement in the mirror caught her eye. She looked to the corner of the glass and saw the reflection of Thranduil walking passed the open door behind her, carrying a sheathed sword. A puzzled look came over her face.

"Almwen?" Her mother asked, seeing the confusion reflecting back in the mirror.

"I will be back shortly, Naneth_,_" Almwen said, turning from the mirror to follow her husband.

"Do not be late for your own wedding!" Her mother called after her, teasing.

Almwen smiled mischievously as she walked out the door, making her mother chuckle.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thranduil exited the palace walls and entered the garden where there was a stone that Oropher had often gone to sit upon when he was deep in thought. It was in the middle of the garden, surrounded by flowers of white and yellow and evergreen bushes.

The prince kneeled in front of the stone and unsheathed his father's sword and held it in front of his face for a moment, half of his face reflecting in the blade. Fleetingly, Thranduil thought he could see his father in the reflection. He shut his eyes and shook his head of the thought and then thrust the sword into the ground before the stone so that it stuck. Tears stung in his eyes and a lump rose in his throat, but he swallowed his emotion with determination.

Just as he did this, Almwen came round the corner of the garden behind him and stopped short, watching her husband. Seeing that Thranduil was near tears, she was going to go to him and comfort him until suddenly, he began to speak.

"Ada_…_" Thranduil said softly, looking at the hilt of the sword. The prince stopped short in his thought, not knowing what to say.

Almwen stopped and hid herself behind a tree, not wishing to leave, but curious about her husband's actions.

"Today, Almwen and I shall pronounce our bond before our people. I am nervous, Ada_._ Not because I have second thoughts. Nay, my love for Almwen is steadfast and never changing. I have never been so sure about anything in my life than binding my life to hers."

The hidden elleth smiled, but she stayed hidden and quiet and let Thranduil continue with his goodbye.

"But also today, we shall be crowned the king and queen of Greenwood. I am nervous to take the throne, Ada_._ You have always guided me, and been there for me in times when I did not know what to do. You have always been strong and wise, and steadfast in your love of all things," his voice trembled as memories of years long past flashed in his mind.

Almwen felt her heart break as she heard Thranduil's voice stop short in his emotions.

"I wonder how I will ever manage without you," Thranduil said quietly, finally letting his tears go. He stopped speaking and covered his face with his hand, leaning forward so that his forehead nearly touched the hilt of the sword.

The hidden elleth nearly left her hiding spot and ran to him, wanting to comfort him, but she stopped short again as Thranduil began to recover and speak.

"It would be so easy to give in right now, to just stop living and wait until I fade into the pine trees of this forest, but I will not, Ada_._ I still have much of my life to live. And I swear I will live it to make you proud," Thranduil held his head up again and looked at Oropher's sword, a sad, but determined look on his face.

"You shall forever be with me," he concluded softly, "Namärié, Ada," Thranduil said, kissing his hand and touching it to the sword.

Almwen chose this time to emerge from behind the pine tree and go to Thranduil's side. He appeared unsurprised to see her as he looked up at her. Smiling, his wife knelt down next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"I will miss him terribly, Almwen," Thranduil sighed, shaking off the last of his tears.

Almwen kissed him on the cheek and smiled at him. "He is always with you, meleth nín_,_" she said, putting her hand over his heart.

Thranduil took her hand from his chest and kissed the back of it. He looked deep into her dark eyes and smiled.

"I think that I am ready," he said.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thranduil took the ceremonial ring that was on his finger and slipped it onto Almwen's. It was a simple ring – a gold band with the word "love" inscribed on the outside. Elven marriage rings were never extravagant – it was the bodily bond that held them together, not what they wore on their fingers.

"I thee wed," he said, looking into Almwen's eyes and smiling.

Almwen smiled back and took her ceremonial ring and put it on Thranduil's finger.

"I thee wed," she said.

Veryandil, who was presiding over the ceremony, took both Thranduil and Almwen's hands in his own and smiled at them. Traditionally, the fathers of the bride and groom would bind them together, but for apparent reasons, only Almwen's father was able to give his child away.

"And thus I present you as one. May your new life be blessed," Veryandil said, placing Thranduil's hand on top of Almwen's.

The Great Hall of the palace filled with applause from all in attendance as Almwen's father presented the couple to them. Thranduil and Almwen kissed each other lightly on the lips and then turned to the audience.

Veryandil held up his hands and the crowd silenced themselves. Thranduil and Almwen turned back around to face Almwen's father.

"Now, Thranduil, son of Oropher, are you prepared to take the throne of Greenwood in your father's stead?" Veryandil asked. Thranduil nodded.

"I am prepared," he said.

"Then kneel," Veryandil said. As Oropher's steward, Veryandil was charged with crowning Thranduil the new king of Greenwood. Almwen's father had never been so happy to honor his dear friend, Oropher's, memory by crowning Thranduil as the next king.

Thranduil kneeled and bowed his head. Almwen removed the circlet from her husband's forehead as her father turned to the pedestal to his right, on which sat another circlet with a thicker band than Thranduil's. It was golden, and designs were engraved on it in _mithril._

"Thranduil, son of Oropher, as high councilor of Greenwood, I name thee King of Greenwood. May your reign be long and blessed," Veryandil declared as he placed the circlet on Thranduil's head.

The ellon squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply as he felt the circlet fall onto his head. It was heavy, like the responsibility that was being laid on him. He paused for a moment after Veryandil stepped away from him before standing again, letting the rush of emotions that was going through is body settle before he attempted to present himself to his subjects.

Opening his eyes, Thranduil slowly rose to his feet and turned to face the crowd, which erupted in applause. He cast a glance at Almwen, who was smiling proudly at him. The new king of Greenwood held out his hand to his wife and she took it, and the two strode down the aisle of the Great Hall and out to their new life together.

_I will not let you down, Ada._ Thranduil thought as he exited the hall.


	8. Chapter 8

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen_  
Chapter Eight – Happy News

The first three centuries of Thranduil's reign seemed to fly, somehow. Though Almwen had expected her husband to be busy, she had never expected him to be as preoccupied as he was.

The Disaster of Gladden Fields had happened just shortly after the beginning of Thranduil's reign and had caused quite a stir among the elves of Greenwood. Thoughts of relocating to the north were being investigated. Many expeditions were launched to seek out a good place for a settlement, at several of which Thranduil was present. These expeditions took months, and in the months when he was not exploring with other officials, Thranduil was busy catching up with the politics of Emyn Duir.

By the time that the couple had gotten around to discussing having children, they had been married for nearly four hundred years. Peace had seemed to return for a while, and they were at liberty to try.

That morning, Almwen had noticed something very different about herself. When she woke up, she felt as though there were another presence about her, and it was not just Thranduil.

The ellethrose out of bed and wrapped a robe about her body and walked about their bedchamber, checking all the nooks and crannies to make sure that there really was no one else in the room. Finding it odd that she could sense someone there, she sat down on the bed, frowning, deep in thought. She couldn't possibly be with child. Not on the first try.

…Could she?

Thranduil awoke to see his wife sitting on their bed, facing the other direction. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and trailed kisses up the back of her neck and ear.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered.

"Good morning," Almwen said, turning and kissing him back tenderly.

"Did you have a good sleep?" He asked.

"Indeed, my rest was pleasant. Admittedly, I was in need of it after last night's … activities," she chuckled, giving Thranduil a mischievous look. "And yours?"

The king laughed. "My experience is much the same," he replied.

Almwen grew silent, though she still smiled. Thranduil noticed that she was thinking about something and intertwined their fingers together.

"What is on your mind?" he asked, touching his cheek to hers.

Almwen did not answer right away. She had considered that perhaps she could be carrying a child already, but she did not want to get Thranduil's hopes up, or hers for that matter, but she did not want to lie.

"I was thinking about how wonderful it is to think that we are starting a family," she said lovingly, turning her head so that their foreheads touched. Thranduil smiled and kissed her on the nose.

"Melin le," he said quietly. Almwen smiled back at him. The two sat in bed for a while, just staring into each other's eyes before a bird singing its song outside the window alerted Thranduil to the time of day.

"The day beckons us to join it," he sighed.

"Alas, all good things must come to an end!" Almwen lamented jokingly as she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and fell backwards onto the bed, feigning distress. Thranduil laughed and stood up to go find his clothing.

"Yes, true. But if we never rise to greet the day, we will never know if there was anything better for us to experience during the hours in the sunlight," he said.

Almwen rolled over onto her stomach and held her chin in her hands as she thought about her husband's words for a moment. Smiling, Almwen rose from the bed to get dressed and go investigate this new presence that surrounded her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The queen of Greenwood sat on an examination bed in the healing houses as the healer, Nestadriel, examined her. Nestadriel was one of the Sindar healers. She specialized in midwifery and caring after elflings before and after their birth.

The healer pressed her hand to Almwen's abdomen and closed her eyes, concentrating. The queen of Greenwood felt something stir in her and she gasped. Nestadriel smiled and pulled her hand away.

"I feel a child in you," the healer pronounced with a confident, steady tone.

Almwen, though she had been suspicious of this outcome, was nonetheless stunned.

"You are sure?" The queen asked.

"Aye. The presence you feel is your child, my lady. In a year's time, you will have a little elfling joining your family," Nestadriel said.

Almwen smiled and touched her hand to her middle and felt the warmth of her unborn child. A wave of happiness washed over the elleth as she realized that she was to be a mother. She looked at Nestadriel with joy radiating from her face and the healer laughed a little.

"I suggest you go find the king and tell him the wonderful news!" she said.

"_Hannon le,_ Nestadriel," Almwen said, rising from the bed and going off to find her husband.

Of course, when she did determine Thranduil's whereabouts, he was in a meeting in his study with some of his advisors. Content to wait, Almwen sat on a bench outside her husband's study and dreamt of how wonderful it felt to know she was with child.

Thranduil's meeting lasted an hour, but to Almwen, it seemed like an age had passed. While she had been content to wait, her eagerness ate at her. When the door to his study opened, she jumped out of her seat to greet him as his advisors left.

"Almwen," Thranduil said, kissing her on the cheek. "What brings you here this afternoon?" He asked. The two entered his study and Thranduil shut the door behind them.

"Very good news," Almwen said, unable to wipe the wide smile from her face. Thranduil stared at her, the confusion in his countenance obvious.

"What news would that be?" he asked, smiling curiously. Almwen looked straight into his bright blue eyes with her brown ones and could hardly keep herself from bursting with happiness as she spoke.

"We are to have a child, Thranduil," she said softly.

Thranduil stood frozen in shock for a moment as he let the words sink into his mind. Almwen was carrying their child. He was going to be a father. A smile crossed his lips as all of the thoughts registered in his head.

"A child!" He cried loudly as he reached out and took Almwen's hands and swung her around, laughing joyously.

"Thranduil!" Almwen laughed as she allowed her husband to whisk her about the room.

"I haven't felt this joyous in years! A child! Almwen! A child!" Thranduil said through his laughter. Almwen was laughing so much that she could not respond. They danced about the room a few minutes more before they both became dizzy and Almwen plopped herself down into a chair.

Thranduil knelt next to where his wife sat and pressed his hand to her middle. Almwen could only guess what her husband was thinking, for the look on his face was indescribable: awe, happiness, and pride all wrapped into one expression on his fair face.

Almwen leaned over and pressed her lips to Thranduil's forehead, never feeling happier in her life. Thranduil let out a sigh as he leaned back to look upon his wife, who lifted her face to look upon him. When their gazes met, Thranduil looked away for a moment. Almwen could see sadness flash in his eyes.

"Thranduil?"

"I only wish my father could have been here for this," the king admitted, looking at the ground. Almwen smiled and gracefully slid from her chair to the ground and wrapped her arms around her husband's shoulders.

"I'm sure that he would have been very proud, Thranduil," she said.

Thranduil pulled his wife closer to him and closed his eyes. He smiled, remembering the day when he and Oropher had left to join the War of the Last Alliance and the words he had said. Thranduil knew that wherever his father's spirit now dwelt, that he was smiling.

"I know he is."


	9. Chapter 9

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen_  
Chapter Nine – Firstborn

A year later, Almwen had grown large with child, and Thranduil had grown needlessly nervous about the health of his wife and the child she carried. The queen had never seen her husband so fussy over her before, and while it had at first been endearing, she now grew weary of his anxiousness. It had gotten worse as of late, as Almwen was due any day.

On this particular day, Almwen had struck a deal with her husband to get him to stop fussing over her for a few hours of the day. The queen agreed to be accompanied by a healer throughout the day if Thranduil would go and accomplish some of the day-to-day business in Greenwood that he had let pile up on him.

Almwen was extremely grateful for the healer, Gwirith, who had agreed to accompany her for the day. At the present, they were in the garden seeking quiet from the hustle and bustle of the daily activities in the palace.

"Are you feeling well, my lady?" Gwirith asked.

"Yes, I feel fine," Almwen said happily as she passed the place where Thranduil had erected the monument to Oropher so many years ago. The former king's sword was still stuck in the ground, though now there were vines curling around it from the years it had been there.

Almwen reached out to touch the hilt of the sword, remembering the day she had seen her husband put it there. When her hand came in contact with the weapon, she felt the child inside her move.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, quickly taking her hand from the sword and placing it on her stomach.

"My lady?" Gwirith asked, putting her hand on the queen's shoulder.

"Tis nothing," Almwen said. "I was just surprised when the child moved inside me." She laughed, looking down at her enlarged middle.

"The child seems to know what you touched," Gwirith said, looking at the sword.

"Aye. Either that or he has impeccable timing – Ugh!" Almwen suddenly lurched forward, clutching her abdomen.

"Lady Almwen!" Gwirith cried out, steadying the pregnant elleth so she would not fall forward.

"Impeccable timing, indeed! I believe the child is coming!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Five hours later, Almwen was still in labor, tired and glistening with sweat from pushing. Nestadriel and Gwirith were near and constantly monitoring the queen, and Thranduil was hovering about Almwen's bed, a nervous wreck. If Almwen had not been in such pain, she would have laughed at her husband's behavior.

"Thranduil, calm down." Almwen said, sounding tired. Almost immediately, Thranduil stopped his pacing. The queen chuckled. "I will be fine." She assured him.

"You make it sound as if staying calm is easy." Thranduil sighed, smiling at his wife.

"Ah!" Another contraction racked her body and she curled forward, though it did not ease her pain. Thranduil was instantly at her side and holding her hand.

"It is time to push, my lady," Nestadriel observed.

Almwen let out a frustrated groan as she forced herself to push. "I can't…" the queen said, closing her eyes.

Thranduil wiped some stray black hairs from her glistening face. "I know you have the strength in you, meleth nín," he encouraged her.

"It won't be long now, Lady Almwen," Gwirith said after inspecting the child's progress. "Just a little more and then you can rest."

With another groan, Almwen began to push. She squeezed Thranduil's hand. Thranduil leaned down close to her and kissed her softly, hoping to offer some bit of comfort as she labored on.

"Gwirith, I will deliver the child. Get the blankets ready," Nestadriel said, preparing for the child's birth. Gwirith fetched the blankets from a table in the corner of the room and prepared to receive the child.

"Almost there, Lady Almwen," Nestadriel comforted.

Almwen could hear her heart pounding in her ears as the pain reached its peak. She pushed as hard as she could and when she thought she could push no more, she heard the cry of a child. The pain suddenly became no more than a dull ache to her. She collapsed back onto the pillows in the bed, utterly exhausted.

Thranduil sat on the side of Almwen's bed and pressed his lips to her sweaty forehead. Nestadriel handed off the newborn child to Gwirith, who began to clean the babe. The king looked over at Gwirith intently, wanting to know how his child fared. Almwen opened her eyes and looked at Nestadriel.

"…Boy, or…girl?" The queen asked, nearly too exhausted to get the entire sentence out.

"A son, my lady. You have given birth to a son," the midwife said.

"A son," Thranduil breathed in astonishment.

Almwen sighed and let her head fall onto Thranduil's chest, happy beyond words. Gwirith, after she had finished cleaning the newborn, came to Almwen's bedside.

"Would you like to hold him, my lady?" She asked. Almwen turned and looked at the little child that squirmed in the healer's arms. She could only nod as she looked upon her child. Gwirith handed the newborn boy over to his mother.

Almwen was completely in awe of the little child that she held in her arms. Her dark-haired son wriggled and let out little gurgling noises as he opened his eyes for the first time. Almwen gasped.

"Blue eyes," she said. Thranduil smiled proudly as he beheld his black haired, blue-eyed son for the first time. He reached out and touched the child's face, assuring himself that he was not dreaming. The elfling let out a small, high-pitched noise and Thranduil felt as though he may burst from happiness.

"We'll leave you alone for a moment," Nestadriel said as she and Gwirith turned to exit the room. Thranduil nodded and the two healers left to go get new sheets for Almwen's bed and a crib for the baby so mother and child could sleep in the same room.

"I did not think it was possible to fall in love twice…" Thranduil murmured as he stroked his son's thin wisps of black hair.

"Nor did I," Almwen said, resting her head against her husband's chest.

"What shall we name our noble little prince?" The king asked, tickling the child's nose. The little boy wrinkled his face and Almwen laughed softly.

"Arthion," she replied, playing off of her husband's use of the word "noble". The child in her arms made a delighted squeal and Thranduil laughed.

"Arthion it is then."

* * *

**NOTES**

Sorry! I know yall were hoping to meet Legolas this chapter - not yet. Soon, though! I promise!


	10. Chapter 10

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen_  
Chapter Ten – The Surprise

Thranduil stared down at the map of Greenwood the Great before him. There were several black markings dotting the landscape on the eastern side of the forest, and some in the southeast. The king frowned as the captain of his scouts, Bregol, went over the map with him.

"All of the black exes are where we sighted Orc camps. They are multiplying, my lord," Bregol said, pointing to one of the black marks. "At it appears that they are moving in on Emyn Duir."

Thranduil sighed. "How many do you think were in each camp?" The king asked.

"Anywhere from fifty to one hundred, at least," Bregol answered.

Thranduil counted the black marks on the map and then calculated the number of Orcs in his head. Nearly one thousand, if Bregol's estimate was correct. He groaned in frustration.

"This is not good news," the Elvenking said gravely. He was extremely reluctant to fight, especially since he knew how ill prepared the elves of Greenwood would be in case of an attack. Their armor was leather, and those who were trained in the ways of war were few. Thranduil did not think that there would be a need for many warriors after the downfall of Sauron. Apparently, he was wrong.

"There is more, I fear," Bregol sighed, "there are reports of fell creatures abroad."

Thranduil raised his eyebrow. "Creatures?"

"They are described as large, and many-legged. Like spiders," The captain explained.

"How large?" The Elvenking asked.

"Large enough to devour an elf."

Thranduil leaned on the table, hovering over the map and letting his bright hair spill over his shoulders as he looked at the map. The king sighed and a troubled look came over his face.

"We cannot stay in Emyn Duir and expect to live quietly," he said.

"It would not seem that way, my lord."

Thranduil let out an aggravated grunt and pushed himself off the table. "Have there been any reports of Orcs in the north?" He asked.

"No. The regions north of the Forest Road have reported no signs of Orcs, or any other fell creatures."

Thranduil nodded and began to think. There was one settlement north of the Forest Road. It was a trading outpost used by the elves of Greenwood and the men of Lake-Town. The Elvenking wondered if relocating his people to the settlement north of the Forest Road was a practical idea. There were many elves in Emyn Duir, and several settlements scattered in areas near the mountains. It would be difficult to move the populous of Greenwood away from harm unnoticed. But something had to be done.

"Send word to all of the settlements around Emyn Duir. Warn them of the Orcs and instruct them to move north of the Forest Road. Distribute what soldiers we can among them to ensure some safety." Thranduil ordered.

"What of the elves here?" The captain asked.

"We will begin to leave in small groups. If the entire population of Emyn Duir moves at once, it will arouse suspicions. I do not want to risk an attack," Thranduil said. Bregol nodded.

"I shall send out riders immediately," he said, bowing and leaving the king alone in his study.

Thranduil walked behind his desk, collapsed in his chair, and put his forehead in his hand, greatly disturbed by this ill news. He contemplated the difficulty of Greenwood's circumstances as silence settled in the room.

Just as Thranduil had begun to wonder what Oropher might have done in the current situation, the silence was shattered by the sound of feet running down the hall outside. Suddenly, the door to Thranduil's study burst open, startling the king out of his quiet contemplation.

"Ada! Ada!" A little voice cried. Before he knew it, Thranduil had an elfling in his lap, tugging on the sleeve of his silver tunic.

"Ada! Arthion nearly hit my foot with an arrow! He was shooting at me, Ada!" The small elf said in distress.

"The arrow landed inches away from his foot, and I would have not done so if I had not been provoked!" An angry voice came from the doorway.

Thranduil looked to the door of his study to see Arthion, now an adolescent, standing there, his blue eyes glaring daggers at his younger brother, Hérion, who was curled up on Thranduil's lap cowering.

"What did you do to provoke such a reaction from your older brother?" Thranduil asked, looking down on his younger son.

"I was only asking questions!" The elfling said, crossing his arms.

"_A_ _million_ questions, even after I asked him to be quiet. All well I was practicing my archery!" Arthion corrected as he walked farther into the room.

Thranduil could not help but smirk as he set Hérion on the ground and stood up. "If your brother asked you to be silent while he was practicing, you should have honored his request," he said to his youngest. Hérion's bottom lip protruded, protesting the scolding. Thranduil shook his head as he ruffled his son's hair.

"Nonetheless," he said, turning then to Arthion, "that does not excuse careless behavior with the bow, Arthion. An arrow is a weapon, and weapons are meant to kill. If you had miscalculated your aim, things could have turned out much worse," Thranduil lectured. Arthion sighed and rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, also protesting.

"Do not do it again, or you will not attend archery lessons for two weeks," his father warned.

"Yes, Ada," Arthion muttered angrily.

Thranduil walked out from behind his desk and patted his eldest son on the shoulder, assuring him that he was not being punished – yet, anyway. Arthion was difficult to provoke, but when he was, he was quick to anger and did not always think through things before he did them. But Thranduil knew that his firstborn would not harm his younger brother intentionally.

Hérion, on the other hand, was a ball of fire. He was only twenty years old, the equivalent of a mortal ten-year-old. Hérion was the exact opposite of his older brother: curious, busy, and impatient. Though, Thranduil marked that he looked nearly identical to Arthion, despite the age difference. Both of his children possessed the same ebony hair and bright blue eyes. The only divergence between the two was their facial builds – Arthion's face was similar to Thranduil's and Hérion's was like that of Almwen's.

Besides their physical features, one trait both of Thranduil's sons had was their knack for getting into trouble. Whether it was for fighting with each other or exploring places they were forbidden to enter, both princes often found themselves at the receiving end of a lecture.

Thranduil looked out of the door of his study and out of the opposite wall's window and saw the sun was nearing the horizon, ready to set.

"Well, my sons, we had best be off and readying ourselves for the evening meal. Your mother does not like it when we are late," the king said, motioning for his sons to go ahead of him out of the door.

"Ada, when you are late to dinner, does Naneth punish you?" Hérion asked innocently. Arthion snorted and rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Thranduil laughed, thinking of the disappointed stare that his wife gave him when he returned from his duties late. That was punishment enough.

"Yes, Hérion. I suppose she does," the king chuckled.

Hérion's eyes grew wide, suddenly having a new respect for his mother and the things she said. Arthion gave his father a skeptical look. Thranduil just smiled and put his hand on his son's shoulder as the three walked down the hallway to the dining hall.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Almwen was sitting in a chair, stitching something when Thranduil came in to get ready for dinner. She could tell just by the way his jaw was set that something was awry. She hoped that whatever had put him in a worrisome mood would melt away once she told him her good news.

"Good evening, meleth nîn," the queen said, rising from her chair and giving him a hug.

Thranduil kissed her cheek in greeting. "Good evening," He responded quietly, offering her a smile.

"Are you well?" Almwen asked, not convinced by his expression. She looked at him expectantly. Thranduil sighed. He was not particularly looking forward to telling his beloved wife that they had to vacate Emyn Duir – her life-long home – to move to safety.

"A shadow has fallen on Greenwood. It is not safe here any longer," he replied, gazing upon his wife with sadness.

Almwen's mouth fell open in confusion and her brow furrowed.

"What…?" She asked when she finally found her voice.

"Bands of Orcs have come into the forest, and are gathering on the eastern border. They are surrounding Emyn Duir. We must leave this place," Thranduil replied in a quiet, defeated, voice.

"To where?" Almwen asked in half a breath.

"A place north of the Forest Road. There are no Orcs in the north. We will leave gradually so as not to arouse the Orcs' suspicions and encourage an attack."

"How long will it take to completely empty Emyn Duir, do you think?"

"A year. Perhaps more."

Darkness suddenly fell over Almwen and she sat back down in her chair covering her mouth in shock. Thranduil looked down at her in confusion. He took a few steps and stood in front of the chair in which she sat, took her hand away from her mouth, and kissed it as he knelt down before her. Never had he seen his wife so rigid, so worried.

"What is wrong?" He asked her.

Almwen met his gaze steadily. The gravity in the room seemed to increase tenfold as she looked into Thranduil's eyes, took his hand, and touched it to her stomach.

"I am with child, Thranduil."


	11. Chapter 11

_The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen_  
Chapter Eleven – The Shadow Falls

The evacuation hadn't exactly gone as planned. During the ninth month of Almwen's pregnancy, the Orcs began to close in on Emyn Duir and the idea of evacuating the mountains in small groups was abandoned and the remaining elves fled their home for safety in the north.

Thranduil was strung as taught as a bowstring as he sat upon his horse, glancing from side to side, making sure that their path was safe. On his right was Arthion on his own horse, and behind him in a wagon were Hérion and Almwen. Nestadriel rode on a horse of her own just behind the wagon, keeping a close watch on the Lady of Greenwood. The royal family was towards the front of the traveling elves, surrounded by archers for protection. The group was silent.

"Will we stop tonight, Ada?" Arthion asked, breaking the silence that had been long in place.

"Shortly before sunset. I want those on guard to have a chance to get a look at things in the light," Thranduil replied quietly. He would rather have not stopped, but the horses would need rest. Arthion nodded.

"Will you allow me to take a watch tonight?" His son asked. Arthion had been training with the guard for a year and was eager to test his skills. The adolescent elf was excellent with the bow, but he had not yet been tested in battle.

"No," the Elvenking replied resolutely, "You are not yet ready to take watch in the dark."

"But Ada - "

"Do not question me, Arthion."

Thranduil's oldest sighed and his shoulders sagged. Thranduil noticed, but paid his son's disappointment little mind. He would rather have disappointed son than none at all.

The king looked behind him to check on his wife. Almwen was sleeping in the wagon, her hand on her enlarged middle. Hérion was sitting next to her, playing with two wooden soldiers. Thranduil smiled. Despite the bad timing, he was excited at the thought of having another child. In the beginning, Almwen had been very troubled about being with child in such a trying time, but Thranduil had assured her that it was a burden that he would happily bear.

"My lord?" The voice startled Thranduil out of his thoughts. He turned to face Bregol, who rode to his left.

"I think now would be a wise time to halt for the night," the captain of the guard said.

Thranduil nodded. "Then we shall," he said, pulling back his horse's reigns. The white steed stopped and shook his head and snorted as Thranduil dismounted. The king patted the horse's nose, quieting the creature.

The king walked back to the wagon where his wife was waking up and his youngest son was still pitting his wooden soldiers against each other in a battle to the death.

"How are you feeling?" Thranduil asked his wife as he came around to the back of the wagon. Almwen stretched.

"I feel fine," she said as she scooted towards her husband. She draped her legs over the side and Thranduil helped her off the wagon. The queen looked around at the trees. They were no longer anywhere near the mountains. The trees about them were deciduous; elm, birch, willow, maple. They had different voices than the ones in her old home. As she listened, Almwen frowned.

"What is it?" Thranduil asked, noticing the change in her countenance.

"The trees are restless," Almwen replied, looking around. Thranduil turned his head in different directions and looked at the trees, noticing the same tension. His wife was more in tune with what was going on around them than he was, but the trees were putting out enough signals even for him to notice without too much concentration.

Hérion, upon hearing his parents' conversation, was intrigued.

"Can trees talk?" He asked, putting his wooden soldiers down and coming to the back of the wagon to join his parents.

"Yes, they have voices of their own," Almwen covering her concern with a smile and putting a hand on her young son's shoulder.

"Are they talking now?" The elfling asked. His mother nodded, and Hérion frowned, tilting his head to the side.

"If they are talking why can I not hear them?" The little elf interrogated, a pout in his voice. Almwen laughed and Thranduil smirked as he lifted his son off of the wagon and into his arms.

"You must listen carefully for them," the queen said.

"But I was listening!" Hérion protested.

"Perhaps one day, you will hear them, my little one," Almwen said softly, kissing her youngest son on the cheek. Hérion still looked as if he did not understand, but he let the issue lay and Thranduil let him down so he could go admire the horses, his most favorite animal. After their son was well occupied, Almwen turned to her husband.

"Something is not right, Thranduil. I do not think that we are safe here," she said under her breath.

"There are not many safe places in Greenwood anymore, Almwen," Thranduil sighed.

"It is less safe than normal," Almwen replied. Thranduil reached out and embraced her, pulling her close to his body and kissed her.

"I wish that I could somehow stop this shadow from falling," he said sadly.

"No one can stop this evil from befalling Greenwood. But you can protect us from it, and you have thus far succeeded," Almwen assured him with a smile. Thranduil felt some of the weight of his worry melt away as he returned his wife's smile. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Suddenly, a horn in the distance caused both to turn their heads to the east from whence the noise came.

"Arthion! Hérion! Get down NOW!" Thranduil ordered his sons, who were disconnecting the two horses that pulled the wagon from their yolks. The startled children looked at their father in confusion.

"Ada?" Arthion asked.

"Do as I say!" Thranduil barked. He was about to order his wife to do the same an arrow buzzed through the air past his head. Before he had time to react, he heard another noise, but it was not an arrow passing by his ear.

It was an arrow embedding itself in flesh.

"Oh!" Almwen gasped and lurched forward into Thranduil's arms. To the king's horror, there was an Orc arrow protruding from the flesh between his wife's shoulder blade and spine. Around them, the forest sprang to life with surprised and angry shouts. They were ambushed.

"Almwen!" He cried out, clutching his beloved's arms. He reached forward and tore the arrow from her shoulder, causing her to cry out again. Thranduil looked to his children, who were still standing, looking on in horror.

"Arthion, help me turn the wagon on its side!" Thranduil shouted. Arthion looked at his mother in sock and then looked at his father. "Arthion!"

The young elf went to the front of the wagon as his father went to the back and together they turned the cart on its side and Thranduil carried his wife behind the wood and set her down on the ground that was covered in leaves. Arthion and Hérion dodged behind the cart also, both completely silent and trembling in fear. Almwen took her husband's hand and he looked into her terror-stricken eyes.

"Thranduil – the baby," she said.

For the first time in his life, Thranduil felt absolutely helpless. Even when his father had fallen, he had somehow carried on. But now, with his wife and unborn child in danger, he could not think of what to do. Sounds of the battle raging on behind him echoed in his ears. He turned to see elves ducking for cover, some of them were running into the woods to go meet their Orc foes in battle.

Then, from behind a rock, he saw Nestadriel peek out to see what was going on. He turned to his sons.

"Arthion, lend me your quiver and bow," he instructed his oldest. Silently, Arthion handed over his weapons to his father. Though he was still a young elf, he was fully grown and his bow and arrows were full-sized. Thranduil would be able to use them easily.

"My sons, you must stay here with your mother. Whatever you do, you _must not_ leave this spot, do you understand?" He instructed.

"Where are you going?" Hérion asked, tears welling up in his blue eyes.

"To get help for your mother. Do not leave her side, _do you understand?_" Thranduil asked again. The boys nodded and then the king turned to Almwen.

"Hold on," he pleaded, kissing her lips. Almwen nodded, and took several deep breaths as her dark eyes pierced his.

With that, Thranduil leapt up and ran for the rock where he had seen Nestadriel the healer. He took an arrow from the quiver on his back and put it to the string of the bow, ready to fire if need be. When he reached the rock, he knelt down, but did not look at Nestadriel as he spoke to her; he watched the trees for flying arrows.

"Almwen is wounded, she needs help," he spoke quickly.

A few arrows flew by. Thranduil caught movement in his right eye, turned, aimed, and fired. An Orc cried out in the distance.

"I have my medicinal kit. Take me to her," Nestadriel replied in a determined voice as she patted the bag that was slung over her shoulder.

"Stay behind me." Thranduil commanded her. Nestadriel nodded and stood with the king and ran with him as he fired arrows into the trees at Orcs he could see coming. When they reached the wagon, he made sure that Nestadriel was safely behind it before running to his horse, which was rearing up in alarm. The king grabbed the reigns and stopped the horse long enough for him to retrieve his own quiver and bow. He slapped the horse's rear end, sending the steed running off into the forest. He hoped that the creature found safety.

Thranduil then dodged back under the cover of the wagon and handed Arthion's weapon back to him, who currently had his little brother sitting in his lap.

"You may need these before the night is over," Thranduil said in a low voice. Arthion looked frightened, but he nodded.

Hérion was crying, fearing for his mother. "Is Naneth going to be alright?" He asked Nestadriel, who bandaging Almwen's shoulder. Almwen was pale, and she was covered in sweat. Almwen reached out and took her youngest son's hand with her unharmed arm and smiled through her pain.

"Do not worry, my little one. Be brave for me," she said through several steady breaths. Hérion nodded vigorously, biting his bottom lip and blinking away some of his tears.

"King Thranduil," Nestadriel said, calling the king's attention to her. Thranduil looked at her. "I do not know what else I can do. The wound itself is not too deep, but the poison is already in her blood," the healer said, reaching into her medicinal bag and pulling out some herbs. She crushed the leaves into little bits and then pulled a water skin out of her bag and poured the leaves in. She shook the water skin a few times.

"Drink this," Nestadriel instructed the queen, putting the flask to her lips. Almwen drank the liquid.

"This will help, but I do not know how much poison is in the wound and how much got into her blood before I could clean it," the healer said. Thranduil's heart dropped into his stomach.

"The baby?" Almwen asked, her voice trembling.

Nestadriel pressed her hand to Almwen's middle and closed her eyes in concentration.

"The child still lives," she concluded. The queen seemed to relax a little more and closed her eyes and sighed. But Thranduil could see that Nestadriel did not look optimistic. If the poison was circulating in Almwen's blood, it would not be long before the baby was affected by it.

Suddenly, Thranduil heard an Orc's growl nearby. He loaded his bow and suddenly stood up, aimed and fired, hitting the Orc squarely between the eyes. The foul creature fell backwards and did not get back up. In the distance, he could hear Bregol barking out orders.

"Do not let them get away!" a cry came.

It sounded as if there were not many Orcs left, and if there were, they were fleeing. Thranduil turned and looked at his sons, who were staring at their father with wide eyes. Neither had ever seen their father wield a bow and arrow, much less act in battle. He was about to address them when, suddenly, the Elvenking spotted something moving in the trees beyond where his sons were sitting. And it was large.

"Arthion, ready your bow." Thranduil said in a low voice. Hérion scooted off of his brother's lap as Arthion took an arrow out of his quiver and put it to the string of his bow. No sooner had he turned around than a large spider appeared from behind the trees. The young elf nearly dropped his weapon in fright.

Thranduil wasted no time firing at the fell creature in its abdomen. The spider let out a horrid scream and charged the king of Greenwood in anger. Thranduil moved away from the wagon, drawing the spider away from easy prey. He fired again to keep the spider's interest. It charged more intently this time, and was quicker than the Elvenking had anticipated. The oversized arachnid batted at Thranduil with one of its forelegs, knocking the king to the ground.

An arrow whizzed through the air and hit the spider near where Thranduil's first shot hit.

"Leave my Ada alone!" Arthion cried, readying another arrow in his bow. The spider turned around and charged the young elf. Arthion fired another arrow, but his aim was inaccurate and the arrow went awry. By the time the young prince had readied another arrow, the spider was almost upon him.

"Arthion!" Thranduil cried. Unsheathing a dagger he had attached to his belt, Thranduil leapt after the spider and jumped on its back. He slashed the evil creature blindly. Black liquid spewed from the beast and it let out a terrible cry as its life leaked from its body.

While the battle went on, Almwen's health suddenly went downhill. She felt the poison coursing through her body, and she felt her child lurching in her womb. The poison had reached the child. Realizing what was happening, Almwen took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She blocked out the world as best she could and took stock of what was before her. She knew she had but one choice.

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she summoned all of her strength. With a cry, Almwen willed her body into labor. Her water broke.

"Lady Almwen!" Nestadriel shouted, realizing what had just happened.

"This child must survive," Almwen, wincing in pain.

"It is too early for the child to be born! You may yet live, my lady!" Nestadriel protested, taking the queen's hand and looking upon her in an overwhelmed mix of fear and frustration.

Almwen took another deep breath and steadied herself.

"I can feel it in me, Nestadriel. It is taking my life. I will not let it take my child's," she said.

"Naneth!" Hérion cried. The elfling could not fully grasp what was happening, but he could understand somehow that life hung in the balance in that moment. He crawled closer to her and put his little hands on hers. Almwen turned her eyes to her son. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek and wiped away some of his tears with her thumb.

"Fear not, little one. This will all pass soon," she said, smiling at him through her agony. Hérion quieted himself again, trying to be brave for his mother. A sudden and strong contraction caused Almwen to arch her back and cry out in agony.

Nestadriel turned around to see Thranduil climbing off of the giant spider, which was now dead. He was walking towards Arthion to ensure his son was unharmed.

"My lord!" She shouted in an angry and desperate voice. Thranduil's attention immediately snapped back to his wife. He saw that her knees were bent and drawn closer to her body, and that the ground around her was wet. It took him only a moment to realize was happening.

"Almwen!" He cried out, running to her. He collapsed on the ground next to her and ran his hand over her sweaty forehead. "Meleth nín, what…?"

"This was my choice," Almwen said. She looked at her husband through her labored breaths, but held his gaze steadily.

Arthion ran over to his family fell on the ground beside his brother. "What's going on?" he asked, confused.

"Your mother's having her baby," Nestadriel said softly.

Another contraction started and Nestadriel began to coach Alwmen through it. Just as the queen let out a cry, Thranduil heard someone call his name.

"King Thranduil!" It was Bregol. Thranduil stood up to see many elves coming back, many covered in the black blood of the Orcs.

"My heart sings to see thee alive," Bregol sighed out of relief. "We must not tarry long, the Orcs that were not killed fled the forest. I fear they will return with reinforcements."

"Almwen has gone into labor," Thranduil said breathlessly. Though there were a thousand thoughts whizzing through his head in those moments, he felt as though he had never been able to concentrate better. His body buzzed with adrenaline from his battle.

Bregol looked alarmed at the king's words. "I did not think she was due for - "

"She was hit with a poisoned arrow. She willed herself into labor to save the child, and I do not know how long she will be. If need be, I will remain with her while the rest of you go ahead. She cannot travel. Not now," Thranduil interjected. His voice held no emotion as he reported the news to the captain.

"We cannot leave you here!" Bregol protested.

"I will not allow the entire company to be in danger. If it is necessary to move on, I will stay behind with my wife," Thranduil repeated. The determination in his voice made what he said impossible to disregard. Bregol nodded hesitantly and then turned to an elf that was standing behind him.

"Prepare to leave."

The elf nodded and ran off to put Bregol's order into motion.

Thranduil turned back to Nestadriel. "You must leave with them, and take the children," he said.

"I will do no such thing while my lady is still alive!" Nestadriel protested adamantly. "The child is not yet born!"

"I can deliver the child, Nestadriel," Thranduil said. The healer opened her mouth to protest more, but the king silenced her. "You must take the children. That is an order."

Nestadriel set her jaw and stared at the Elvenking. It was clear that she did not wish to leave, but she could not disobey an order from her king.

"If you need anything, you will probably find it in here." She said, sounding defeated as she handed the Elvenking her medicinal pack. Thranduil nodded. Almwen, who perceived what was going on, beckoned that her children come to her side. Arthion and Hérion went to her and she hugged them and kissed their foreheads.

"I am so very proud of both of you. You are so brave…. Arthion, you saved your father's life. You fought valiantly…I want you to know love you very much. I know you will grow up to be a great prince." Almwen whispered to her firstborn. She pulled his head close to hers and kissed him again. Tears brimmed in the young elf's eyes, understanding all that was happening.

"I love you, Naneth," he said.

"Hérion," Almwen said, turning to her youngest. "Thank you for staying by my side and protecting me tonight."

"Nana…I will see you again, won't I?" Hérion asked. His eyes were wide and threatening to spill tears. Almwen paused, not knowing how to answer. She reached out to him and caressed his face.

"You will always see me in your dreams, little one. I love you too much to stay away." She whispered, kissing his forehead.

"I love you too, Naneth." Hérion said, crying.

Once Almwen had said her goodbyes, Nestadriel had returned with three horses, one for herself and Hérion, one for Arthion, and another for Thranduil. The king hugged his children and helped hoist Hérion onto the horse. When the rest of the company was ready, they left. Thranduil watched his sons until he could see them no more.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

An hour and a half later, Almwen's labor was nearly over. In the past, she had taken much longer to deliver a child, but the queen knew that she could not last that long with poison coursing through her body and she would not give up until she gave birth. Thranduil knelt next to her, occasionally moving in front of her to check her progress.

"You are almost done, beloved." Thranduil comforted, running his hand over her sweaty face as he returned to her side. Almwen's eyes overflowed in tears. She could not speak for she was in so much pain from the birthing on top of the poison. Thranduil kissed her and then took out a cloth that Nestadriel had left with them and wiped his wife's face with it.

"Aah!" Almwen cried out as another contraction racked her body. She was at the end of her energy. The elleth knew that she did not have long before her strength would run out. She pushed harder.

"Ssh," Thranduil ran his fingers through her damp hair, trying to offer her some comfort. He knew that her death was inevitable, but he was trying not to think about it, he was occupying himself with delivering the child. His heart ached as he'd never felt it ache before, but Thranduil did not show emotion to his wife other than support and love. He could not let her see him falter.

The contraction passed, but Almwen did not relax.

"Thranduil," she gasped, "it – it is time."

Her husband moved to deliver the child. He took off his outer tunic as a substitute for a blanket.

"You are almost there, my love. You will to make it, Almwen," he coaxed.

Almwen took several deep breaths and suddenly went rigid. She bent forward and pushed as hard as she could. She let out a loud shout, and the child was born. The familiar sound of a baby's first cry flooded her ears as she relaxed her muscles and tried to catch her breath. She could not. The poison was now thick in her body and paralyzing her lungs.

"A son, Almwen. You have given me a son," Thranduil said softly as he cleaned the crying babe and wrapped him in his tunic. The little ellon was smaller than a normal elfling, but other than that appeared to be healthy by some miracle. Thranduil moved to his wife's side again and presented her with their son. She had very little strength left, but was able to hold him with her husband's help. The elfling opened his eyes for the first time and looked up at his parents.

"Oh, Thranduil…" Almwen said, her voice breaking as she gazed into their newborn son's eyes. He had bright blue eyes and blond hair, just like his father.

Almwen, unable to hold back her grief, began to weep. She caressed the little elfling's face with her finger as he yawned.

"The last green leaf to fall from the tree…" Almwen whispered between her tears, "I love you, my little one. I love you."

The little child burbled as he gazed up at his mother, looking quite in awe of her. Almwen leaned down and kissed her son's forehead, and then turned to her husband.

"You must take care of him, Thranduil. You must take care of each of our sons," she said, her voice hoarse.

"I swear to you, it will be done, meleth nín," he promised. Almwen handed the child back to her husband and then reached behind her neck and pulled the necklace that she had received so long ago off of her and handed it to Thranduil.

"Give it to him…to remind him of me," she said, her breaths now becoming labored.

"Almwen…"

Thranduil's wife reached up and touched his face with her cold hand. "You have made my life so wonderful…" she said in a whisper, "I love you more than I can express in words."

"Almwen, you completed me, I don't know how I shall do this without you," Thranduil said, cradling their child in one arm and holding his wife's hand in the other.

"Remember…keep me in your heart and I will never leave." Almwen told him, a faint smile upon her lips as she spoke the words he had once spoken to her the morning before leaving for battle.

"You will always be in my heart, Almwen. I love you," Thranduil replied, leaning down and kissing her through his tears.

Almwen smiled and sighed as she closed her eyes. Finally, the elleth succumbed to the poison and her spirit left her body and flew to the halls of Mandos. Her hand went limp in Thranduil's grasp, and he knew she had gone.

"Almwen…"

How long he wept over her body, he did not know. His newborn son, who suddenly let out a murmuring noise, shook him out of his mourning. As if coming out of a dream, Thranduil blinked down at the small child who was looking up at him. He hugged his son to him and pressed a kiss to the top of the child's head.

Thranduil gathered himself together and wrapped his tunic around his body, creating a safe place to hold his son while he rode through the night.

Before he left, Thranduil turned the wagon right side up and placed his wife's body on it. Not wanting a troop of Orcs to defile Almwen's body, he set it aflame and then mounted his horse and rode off with as much speed as his horse could muster. Thranduil, for the safety of himself and his child, tried to rid his mind of utterly debilitating sorrow he felt and instead concentrate on his road.

He looked down at his son and saw that the elfling had fallen asleep in the pouch his father's tunic created. Thranduil thought about Almwen's first words to the little elfling.

"_The last green leaf to fall from the tree…"_

"Legolas. My little green leaf."

**TO BE CONTINUED. **

* * *

**NOTES**

Thank you all so much for your encouragement and feedback! ... and sorry for the rather dismal end to this story; I promise, not everything about this trilogy will be this depressing.

THAT SAID... Please stay tuned for the next installment: _The History of Legolas: The Last Green Leaf_, which I'll be posting shortly, and Merry Christmas!


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